


Neighbours.

by The_Magic_Rat



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 15:43:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21038672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Magic_Rat/pseuds/The_Magic_Rat
Summary: Never mess with an angel's reading.





	Neighbours.

Good Omens – Neighbours.

Author: The Magic Rat  
Rating: PG13  
Pairings: Crowley/Aziraphale  
Warnings: Sex, language.  
Word Count: 1154

Website – Ex Libris: http://www.winter-wood.net/ex-libris/index.html  
Live Journal: http://delaese.livejournal.com/profile

Disclaimer: All Good Omens characters, places and situations are the property of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, and are used without permission and without intent of plagiarism or profit. Copyright for all stories and original characters is with the author, and may not be published, copied, distributed or archived without the author's prior written consent.

Summary: Never mess with an angel’s reading.

Author’s notes: Getting back into the swing of writing again after a very long bout of depression.

Birthday ficlet for Veet!

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was a pleasant early evening. Aziraphale was sitting up in bed, a cup of tea on the nightstand, reading his latest acquisition; a beautiful hand lettered book fully illustrated by monks who were either bored off their benches or heavily into something stronger than wine. Beside him, snuggled close, half asleep, was Crowley. It was a wonderful way to end the day.

And then...it started. The relentless, never-ending, breathy squeaking of the next door neighbour’s diminutive girlfriend, enjoying her boyfriend’s talents. Aziraphale had not been living long with Crowley, but he’d already learned to hate her and her damned squeaking. He closed his book and set it aside.

“Done reading, angel?” Crowley inquired dryly.

“She sounds like a rusty mouse!”

“Looks a bit like one, too, if you ask me.”

“I am not looking forward to finally meeting her, I don’t think I could be polite. And these walls are not thin, how shrill must she be if one was in the room with her?”

Crowley stretched, then looked up at Aziraphale. “She is giving me ideas, though,” he purred.

And Crowley was giving Aziraphale one, though not intentionally. He raised an eyebrow, then looked down into golden serpent eyes.

“Darling?”

“Yes, angel?” Crowley snuggled closer.

“Tell me, are there any particular...acts...you would really very much like me to perform, but you don’t ask because you don’t think I would want to do them? Something that would make you scream like Roger Daltrey stepping on a Lego?”

For a brief time, Crowley seemed perplexed. But then as the mouse continued her squeaking, a smile slowly spread across his face.

“Are you giving me permission to ask you to be tremendously naughty?”

“I am not only giving you permission, I am actively encouraging you. Now, what would you like?”

Crowley sat up and told his Angel his deepest, darkest, weirdest fantasies; things he would never ask Aziraphale to do without encouragement.

“Right,” said Aziraphale, “I’ll get the silk ropes, you get the popcorn.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Aziraphale had the oddest feeling that he was hanging on for dear life to some sort of wild animal, but his plan was working beautifully; the Squeaker was being treated to the full range of Crowley’s demonic vocals and a fair number of really creative expletives. And there was no effort involved whatsoever; it was all Crowley, enjoying himself to an obscene degree. Then the sound became sharper, higher pitched, rising like a dragon from Hades until Crowley’s body tensed, his back arched, he drove his nails into Aziraphale’s shoulders, and screamed his lover’s full name to Heaven and Hell alike. Then he collapsed, shaking and utterly spent, panting as his fair skin gleamed with sweat. He was passive as Aziraphale took his time, kissing him softly, giving him time to recover. Then, when both were done, they settled into an embrace and fell asleep.

There was not another sound from the Squeaker.

~*~*~*~*~*~

There was a new restaurant opening up, and Crowley and Aziraphale decided to go there for lunch. They were waiting for the elevator; Crowley in his best black silk and leather, and Aziraphale looking pretty much as he always did. The elevator arrived, the doors opened, and Crowley grinned widely as he stepped into the car.

“Randal, how are you, and how is your adorable girlfriend? Hello Kimberly.”

Randal and Kimberly both looked like rabbits caught in the headlights of Crowley’s Bentley. They’d clearly heard last night’s performance, and were a little unsure of how to behave. Then Randal noticed the dapper little slightly-chubby man with the bow tie standing beside their lanky neighbour. He smiled, and Crowley noticed the gesture.

“Oh you two haven’t met! Randal, Kimberly, this is my boyfriend.” There was a brief, dramatic pause. “Aziraphale.”

“Hello,” said Aziraphale brightly.

Randal and Kimberly...stared. It was clear that there were a number of questions wanting to be asked, number one being “How did you two manage to hook up?” and two being “how exactly did YOU make HIM scream like that!?”

“We were just heading to that new restaurant, the one with all the silver and blue on the front.” Crowley looked to Aziraphale. “What’s it called, angel?”

“The Undersea. It sounds fabulous. And they have live harp and violin music. I just love the harp. But I haven’t played in ages. Too busy reading.”

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Aziraphale smiled. “Well it was lovely meeting the both of you. We’ll have to get together some time.”

He stepped out of the elevator and began walking away. Crowley watched him walk until there was a little distance between them, then looked to his neighbours.

“He’s hung like a bloody elephant’s trunk, you should see it, really.”

Then he went scampering after Aziraphale, leaving Randal and Kimberly with their jaws on the floor. Crowley took Aziraphale’s arm as they stepped outside. Aziraphale was blushing violently.

“It is not the size of an elephant’s trunk.”

“But it could be.”

“Well yes I suppose it could but...wouldn’t that hurt?!”

Crowley nuzzled close and flicked out a long forked tongue. “Let’s find out after lunch.”

Aziraphale stopped and thought about that, then looked to Crowley. “I think I’ve lost my appetite for lunch. Let’s have an early dinner instead.”

The pair tore past Randal and Kimberly, giggling madly, on their way back up to their apartment.

~*~*~*~*~*~

~*Epilogue*~

“Aziraphale!”

Aziraphale looked up at the sound of his name, and saw Gabriel walking toward him. He immediately looked for Crowley, then remembered his dearest companion was across the street from the small park where Aziraphale now stood, upgrading his collection of leather clothing. However for once Gabriel didn’t seem to be coming to start a fight. In fact he seemed strangely delighted to see him.

“Aziraphale, I can’t believe it! You look fantastic! I’ll wager you have lost at least twenty pounds! You’re more toned...still a bit soft though.”

“I think all proper angels should be soft,” said Aziraphale archly. “We are creatures of divine love after all.”

“Yes yes,” said Gabriel dismissively. “But how did you do it? How did you lose all that weight and get so much more fit?”

Aziraphale clasped his hands before him, straightened his back, smiled sweetly, and answered Gabriel’s question with one word.

“Fucking.”


End file.
